


in your neighborhood

by lostnoise



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Bottom Steve Harrington, Breathplay, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Found Family, Ghost Billy Hargrove, Ghost Sex, Ghost Steve Harrington, Ghosts Dating, Hand & Finger Kink, Happily Ever After, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More plot than the tags imply, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Pining, Power Bottom Billy Hargrove, Rimming, Road Trips, Romance, Some Plot, Switching, There's a lot of kink, Top Billy Hargrove, Top Steve Harrington, We Stan Vers Boys, a lot of love too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27290857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostnoise/pseuds/lostnoise
Summary: Apparently, this part of the graveyard is reserved for Hawkins’s H-surnames who died relatively young.Billy dies at 21, drunk and depressed and recklessly driving from the bar back to Neil’s house where Billy knew he’d be getting the blunt blow of a boot to his ribs.At least he’d avoided the kick to the ribs, right?
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 15
Kudos: 188
Collections: Haunted Harringrove





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give a HUGE shoutout to the Porn Coven as a whole. You guys mean so much to me. Thank you to [Cait](https://shewritesdirty.tumblr.com/)/[shewritesdirty](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/SheWritesDirty/pseuds/SheWritesDirty) for sharing the Haunted Rim that became such a hilarious and perfect prompt for all of us. Thank you to [Mary](https://catharrington.tumblr.com/)/[catharrington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catharrington/pseuds/Catharrington) for encouraging all of us and joining in on the fun when you had so much on your writing plate already. And finally, a big, personal thank you to [Anna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeckinaHandbasket/pseuds/HeckinaHandbasket)/[heck-in-a-handbasket](https://heck-in-a-handbasket.tumblr.com/) for being my sounding board, my beta, and always encouraging my silly antics.
> 
> Make sure to go read their fics in the collection!! They’re all so amazing!
> 
> The next chapter will be posted tonight. Enjoy!

Apparently, this part of the graveyard is reserved for Hawkins’s H-surnames who died relatively young.

Billy dies at 21, drunk and depressed and recklessly driving from the bar back to Neil’s house where Billy knew he’d be getting the blunt blow of a boot to his ribs.

At least he’d avoided the kick to the ribs, right?

The first time Billy rises from his coffin, not understanding what’s happening, he’s alone in the cemetery and coming to terms with his new reality. That he’s gone and died, proved Neil right that he’s a good for nothing, better off dead. He lashes out at the ground, tearing up chunks of grass and mud because he can’t even touch the goddamn grave markers. None except his own.

Billy can’t bring himself to knock that over, not when there’s a modest bouquet of flowers on the freshly churned dirt. They’re yellow daisies… Max’s favorite. She just might be the only person in the world who will miss him - not his father, not Susan, not any of his ex-girlfriends or friends from high school who’ve moved on while Billy’s stuck here.

Still stuck here, and… maybe stuck forever.

He runs out to the road, eyes scouring his surroundings. There was a fog in the distance. That first day, he’d tried to find his way back home despite the fog, but it didn’t take long at all for him to be drawn back to his grave like a tether below his navel.

He finds out later that ghosts know when a new grave is dug - can sense the shift of the earth making way for another one of their own - and everyone reacts to their death differently. Ghosts clear out when that happens, and either stay in their coffins or go to other parts of the cemetery to avoid making a bad time even worse.

Because of this, Billy doesn’t see Steve Harrington - well, not in the flesh, but like, in the spirit, maybe? - _in person_ until three months after Billy’s died. They’re all buried six feet deep and rotting away in coffins, but Billy hates being stuck down in the dark all day even if he rests the whole time. Not quite dozing, and not quite awake.

He’s usually walking through the graveyard at night anyway, getting all the pent up energy out by walking, transparent and otherworldly, a glimmer of a corporeal form in the moonlight.

That’s when he first sees the ghostly figure of a boy, lanky, with wide shoulders and an impressively teased head of hair. It’s nothing compared to Billy’s carefully styled and managed dark blonde curls which, thankfully, transferred over to the afterlife, but the guy still has good hair. It made Billy want to drag his fingers through it, tug on it a little to see what kind of reaction that would elicit. The teen wore a plain white t-shirt and a white jacket with red accents. Light blue jeans. White sneakers.

A total babe, if Billy’s being honest.

Billy finds out, eventually, that Steve Harrington passed in a drowning accident at the young age of age 18 when he tried to rescue his girlfriend’s best friend from drowning in his backyard pool. 

Unfortunately, that best friend had been Barbara Holland who resides a few plots over from the neighboring Hargrove and Harrington plots. She’s redheaded and quiet, but a spitfire when her buttons are pushed. Which, of course, Billy loves to do, if only because she’s so good at banter and she’s smart.

Billy thinks Barb is cool as fuck, even with her silly sweaters and dowdy shirts.

But he and Steve don’t talk the first night, nor the next. In fact, it takes a whole six months for them to speak, and when they do, Harrington’s a haughty brat.

That’s the night when Billy learns he can’t touch other ghosts, either.

Steve laughs, loud and sharp and kind of beautiful, when Billy falls over trying to punch him in the face.

~

He learns a lot about being a ghost, in those first six months.

Like respecting other ghosts’ boundaries and giving them space on the first night they rise. Or how no ghost can enter another’s coffin. Or that ghosts can change their outfits at will, but they default when they return to their coffins to the clothes they were wearing at their time of death. And while ghosts don’t exactly sleep during the day and could, hypothetically speaking, rise whenever from their coffins, coming up during the day saps up a ghost’s energy so much that it’s just not worth the trouble.

Billy also learns that the one day a year where he actually manifests is on Halloween. It’s the only day he can travel, go somewhere, interact with people again. That through some magical afterlife miracle, he’ll find in his pocket a wallet filled with cash and an ID as soon as he rises from the ground.

Halloween becomes the only day he can rise when the sun is out without wanting to drop right back into the dirt.

He learns that humans won’t see him with his own visage on that day… Some more of that magic from beyond the grave or whatever that protects “ghostly identity.” Which, really, sounds like a long-winded way to say no one really knows _why_ it all happens.

As subtly as possible, he spends the first Halloween after he discovers this hunting down Max and trying not to stalk her through the mall. He’s just… really happy to see her happy.

And he learns that Halloween is also the one day a year he can touch other ghosts, too. It makes for good information when he thinks about getting Steve back for that first meeting.

~

Unsurprisingly, it takes almost five years for Billy and Steve to finally warm up to each other. In that time, Max has moved back to California. Barb becomes his best friend. Mostly, they walk through the graveyard and talk; there’s not a lot to do when you’re dead and stuck in a graveyard.

But, the thing is, Steve doesn’t walk around the way Billy does. It’s kind of sweet, when Billy stops to think about how Steve is usually holed up in a mausoleum talking to old ladies and grandpas, or the little kids that want to play a game of hide and seek. When he’s not taking care of them, he’s by the large pond (more of a small lake, really) in the southwestern corner of the graveyard.

Just… sitting there, staring off into the distance, towards the far edge of the shore where it backs up to the woods and the fog.

On Halloween, five years after Billy dies, he finally approaches Steve and sits next to him. Steve casts him an apprehensive glance but slowly turns back to looking at the pond when Billy does nothing.

It’s pretty, the way the moon reflects off the surface, the soft ripples spreading out across the water. The quiet of the night. The calm he always gets being around water.

The realization that he’ll never see California again, will never see the ocean nor feel the sand beneath his feet, brings a wave of regret crashing over Billy. He shouldn’t have been so reckless, dying in Hawkins. 

Had he been trapped in this tiny town during his living years? Yes.

But not in the same way that he is now.

“You okay?” comes a murmured question from those perfectly pink lips.

Billy takes a big breath and shrugs. He’s not about to spill his fucking guts to Steve Harrington, not… not yet, at least. Maybe if they actually become friends.

Then he punches Steve in the shoulder because it’s Halloween and he can. He can touch Steve however he wants.

“What the fuck, man?!” Steve exclaims, flinching from the hit and rubbing his shoulder.

“That’s for being a brat,” Billy tells him, then slings an arm around Steve in a complete reversal of his previous action. “But don’t worry. We’re gonna be good friends, Harrington.”

Steve rolls his eyes but relaxes a little nonetheless, tense muscles melting under the weight of Billy’s arm across his shoulders.

It’s nice, being close to someone; it’s not a sensation that Billy gets to enjoy more than one day a year on Halloween. Sure, on Halloween, he’s bumped shoulders with Barb. He’s gone into town, was able to sit at a diner and eat food and flirt with the waitress, wash his hands with hot water. He’s seen a different person staring back at him in the mirror, kind of like Billy but… not quite.

So Billy savors feeling Steve next to him. Not even the surprising heat of him, but just his presence there with Billy. It’s damn near heaven especially with a boy as pretty as Steve is.

And, as it turns out, they _do_ become friends.

Good friends.

 _Ghost friends_ , Billy thinks to himself with a smirk.

And if he stares a little too long when Steve is sitting next to the pond, that can stay his own little secret.

If he spends every Halloween after that one doing everything he can to get away with tiny touches… Or if he lays in his coffin during the day, nearly every day, and daydreams about what it’d be like to touch Steve in a way that was more than a friendly pat on the back, or a bump of their shoulders, or ruffling Steve’s hair teasingly… that can be his secret to keep, too.

Barb still guesses, the wily bitch.

Billy kind of loves her.

She catches Billy gazing across the cemetery at Steve where he sits with Mr. and Mrs. Flaherty, some of the oldest spirits living here from the first settlers of Hawkins, next to their elaborate joint headstone. When Billy turns from where he’d been distracted by Steve’s smile, he freezes up immediately from the knowing smirk Barb levels at him.

“Steve, huh?” The smirk grows into a smug grin, one that rivals his own.

“Shut up,” Billy says gruffly, embarrassed at being caught looking. He flushes bright red, with blood he doesn’t actually possess, under his freckles and can’t look Barb in the eye while she throws her head back and simply _cackles_ like a goddamn witch in her amusement.

He kicks at the ground out of frustration, stirring up a little dust cloud, and when he looks back up it’s to see Steve’s eyes cast in their direction.

In Billy’s direction in particular, apparently, because when Billy glances over their eyes lock for a moment. If he needed to breathe, he’s sure the air would have caught in his chest.

Because Billy can almost see a life where Steve stayed alive.

A life where Billy befriended Steve and they ruled the school together. Where Steve became a boon in the hurricane that was Neil. Where Steve’s good nature rubbed off on Billy and made him a better person, less jagged around the edges. Where they’d share secret kisses and even more secret touches. Where they ran away to California and shared a tiny studio apartment and everything else would just fall into place.

A thousand scenarios ran through Billy’s mind for all the ways they could have ended up together.

The moment stays frozen, just between the two of them, before Steve startles when the Flaherty couple call back his attention. From this distance, it almost looks like Steve grows a little pink in the cheeks. He slides his fingers through that soft-looking hair and pushes it self-consciously behind his ear.

Billy thinks maybe, _just maybe_ , Steve is thinking of him too.

~

Then, one evening when it’s not quite sunset and the sun still burns red and orange in the sky, Steve slips from his grave to come walk over Billy’s - it’s an effective method of waking the dead, that’s for sure, as he wakes with a shudder. Billy rises, flustered and huffing, and shakes his curls out of his eyes. He’s expecting to see disrespectful hooligans - much like Billy had been before he died. When he sees who, exactly, had woken him early, Billy clenches his jaw but his aggressiveness has faded away along with the hunch of his shoulders to his ears.

“Hey,” Steve greets, and cocks his head towards the corner of the cemetery where the pond is. His smile is a little shaky, like maybe he’s not welcome with the way he’d woken Billy up. “Come with me?”

Like Billy would even say no. He only ever stays in his coffin when the weight of death settles heavily on his shoulders, on his death day or his birthday, or Max’s birthday, or the final day he went to the beach with his mom.

It’s still early and so Billy is yawning and bleary-eyed as he follows after Steve more by instinct than by sight. They finally get to the edge of the pond and Billy throws himself onto the stone bench, rubbing at his face to encourage himself to wake up. Steve sits down next to him and draws a leg up to his chest; Billy doesn’t have to be looking to know that’s what he’s doing because he just _knows_ Steve by now.

“Billy, look.” 

He finally opens his eyes and does just that. And he can’t stop looking. The sun goes down in a beautiful kaleidoscope of warm colors going cool, reflecting off the water in a way that reminds Billy of the Pacific Ocean. While there’s no sound of the waves rolling in, just for a moment, he thinks he’s back. That if he toes his boots off, he’ll be putting his toes in the warm sand.

“Wow,” he whispers.

“Do you like it?” Steve asks, voice quiet, and when Billy cuts his gaze over to him, Steve is looking at him with those wide, dark eyes that Billy often gets lost in when they’re simply talking to each other.

“It’s beautiful,” Billy murmurs, not looking away from Steve, because the orange-red-pink glow on his face is truly stunning.

 _Steve_ is stunning, especially with the way he smiles slow and wide, the way it curves the corners of his eyes… Billy is more awestruck by seeing Steve in the sunset than by the sunset itself.

“I think so too,” Steve agrees. His smile softens, goes a little shy with how he ducks his head and tucks that stray lock of hair behind his ear only for it to flop back into his face again. “I come here to watch the water because… because it’s the only body of water I’ll get to see until Halloween. I usually go down to the quarry, or catch a ride to one of the lakes.” He pushes and bites his lip in thought. “You know, I don’t think there’s a limit on how far you can go as long as it’s still Halloween.”

Billy considers this for a moment. Maybe one Halloween he’ll try to go to California. He doesn’t know how, but… maybe. Maybe he can make it work.

“You grew up around here?” Billy asks instead. He’d like to do what he can to learn more about Steve because he wants to know everything he can.

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “Yeah, born and raised. Was so close to finishing high school, too.”

“Are your… y'know. Are you parents still alive?”

Steve gives a hollow laugh. “Yeah, as far as I know. But, they’ve been busy traveling since I turned 14. That’s why… the night I died. I had a party at my place, and I invited my girlfriend- my then-girlfriend.”

He swallows. Billy’s heard this ex-girlfriend visiting Barb during the day, talking to her grave, and less often, visiting Steve’s and apologizing for everything. For starting to date her new boyfriend, Jonathan, so soon after. For bringing Barb when Nancy knew she couldn’t swim. For not doing more to save either of them.

Billy might not be able to enter Steve’s coffin, but sometimes he hears the soft, quiet sobs when Nancy visits.

“She brought Barb with her, but Barb… she can’t swim. She started drowning and I was coming back outside to grab my smokes when I saw her. I couldn’t just do nothing.

“My parents only came home when they got the call that I died. Stayed around long enough to have the funeral and put me in the ground. They don’t even visit my grave. You know, I think they’re glad that I died… one less burden for them to worry about.”

He spits the words out, casting a glance over his shoulder back towards where their plots are.

The headstone on Steve’s grave is elaborate - black stone with a gray engraved overlay of Steve’s name, birthday, and death day, as well as a quote and a small, realistic engraving of a dove. Very ostentatious. Very expensive. It’s better than the simple one decorating Billy’s, gray cement or whatever with his name and his lifespan, but Billy suspects Steve’s parents threw a lot of money at him in lieu of attention let alone parental affection.

At least Billy had Max after he died, visiting his grave to update him about her life and leaving daisies behind, until she moved away back to the west coast with her boyfriend Lucas.

“Parents suck,” he comments. Because they do. He kind of wishes he had a cigarette for this kind of discussion. “My old man used to knock me around. Not a little bit, but a lot. Like… black eyes, busted lips, busted _ribs_. Broken bones, man. He used to-”

Billy winces and fiddles with the frayed edge of the hole in his jeans at his knee. Steve’s hand covers his, hovering but not touching - never touching, because it’s not Halloween. But his hand hovering there is a testament that he’s here for Billy, and that little gesture gives him the strength to continue. 

“He used to kick me. Used to put cigarettes out in my skin.” Billy swallows against the thick emotion in his throat. “Used to break my records over my head or throw my textbooks at me when I was late or got a bad grade or if I disrespected him or my step-mom. He was a mean motherfucker. Terrorized my step-mom and my step-sister. Apparently my step-mom divorced his ass and he moved to Indianapolis. Don’t miss him one bit.” 

His jaw clenches as he thinks about the things Max told him, their private conversations between human and unresponsive ghost, and Billy rolls his shoulders as if he could shrug away a lifetime of abuse from his only parent - and regret for leaving behind the closest person to family he ever had.

“Honestly, I’m better off dead, man.”

“I wish I could have known you,” Steve says after a moment of silence stretches out between them. “Alive, I mean. I think we might have clashed at first, but… we could have been friends.”

Billy nods because he’d had the same thoughts before. “Yeah, I think we could have been.”

“We’re friends now,” Steve offers with that shy smile again. His fingers twitch like he wants to squeeze Billy’s hand.

“Yeah,” Billy grins, turning his hand over beneath Steve’s. He could almost feel their palms fitting neatly together. Billy wishes he could twine their fingers and hold Steve’s hand properly. “We are.”

They spend a good portion of the night by the pond, just talking about everything and nothing. He learns Steve’s favorite color - blue - and that he surprisingly likes flowers and sunsets and even sometimes stays up late enough to watch the sunrise. And Steve talks about his old friends: Tommy and Carol, who Billy knew because of basketball and small-town high school parties, Nancy who was in some of Billy’s classes.

He finds out that they both love basketball, and they’d both been on the Hawkins basketball team. They both love cars. He finds out that Steve had a sensible but pricey BMW, but had a photo of a red sports car hung on his wall at home; Billy talks about the Camaro and how smooth she’d ride down the back roads of Hawkins. And he finds out that they both had an unhealthy obsession with their hair. Billy admits to the perm and the cheap drugstore conditioner that he’d use in droves to keep his curls in top shape. Steve talks about Farrah Fawcett hairspray and special shampoo and conditioner that made his hair smell like honey.

Billy wishes he could push his fingers through Steve’s hair, if only to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

At some point, Steve beckons him to follow and leads them to the eastern side of the cemetery. Billy understands why when he sees the little meadow full of flowers that extends into the fog. Carpeted with red and white clover, there are a few different flowers that Billy can only tell apart by the colors.

This is how Billy learns that Steve likes flowers.

Steve calls out the names as they pass their hands over the white anemones and blue toadflax, Indian carpet and purple aster. Billy notes how Steve’s fingers linger on the purple chicory.

“I used to garden with my mom when I was little. When they were around, still,” Steve admits, voice quiet in the night air. “She taught me a lot. I used to still… I’d go out into the garden in the spring, you know? Would weed the flower beds and buy flowers from the nursery over in Williamsport. Mom and dad hired landscapers one year and they ripped everything out. Even the purple chicories.” He swallowed thickly, staring at them as if stuck in the memory, as he strokes his long fingers over the purple petals. “They’re my favorite.”

They talk and talk until the blue-gray of early dawn sheds light through the treetops. Steve looks beautiful in any light, honestly, but Billy wishes he could see him in full splendor… On a California beach, backgrounded by the waves, laughter spilling out of his mouth.

They’re slow to walk back to their graves, hovering close - still chatting, unable to stop smiling, reluctant to part ways. When they arrive in front of their plots, Steve takes a deep breath.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he tells Billy, so honest that it makes Billy’s chest hurt with a heart he doesn’t have anymore. Doesn’t mean the phantom of it doesn’t beat harder.

“Did you just take me on a date, Harrington?” Billy’s smile is slow to spread across his face. He means for it to be teasing but there’s an element of hope, bright and shining, in his voice and eyes.

Steve laughs and shrugs a shoulder, all suave casualness and pretty boy charm. It’s really doing things for Billy. “Maybe I did. Did _you_ have a good time?”

“For stalking through a graveyard where I’ve been stuck for so long…” Billy may roll his eyes but the pleased grin on his face says more than anything else. “Yeah. I really did.”

“Same time tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” the blonde affirms, biting back a smile, and instead he throws a wink at Steve before sinking back through the dirt and down to his coffin for a mostly peaceful rest.

It’s the best damn evening ever in Billy’s afterlife.

~

Things continue on like that for a while. They spend time together and talking about their lives and their likes and dislikes. They find secret spots in the graveyard where no one else ventures. They hover so close but each time he reaches, his hand passes through Steve’s arm. All Billy wants to do is hold Steve’s hand for once.

They haven’t even kissed yet, but they’ve talked about it.

They’ve talked about it a lot, really.

They walk the perimeter of the fog, whispering their secrets to each other. Billy used to hook up with guys under the boardwalk back home. Steve, pink in the cheeks, admits to sleeping with an older man in town, _after_ Steve turned eighteen, who he refuses to name.

“Did you call him daddy?” Billy teases, snickering, and when Steve’s pink cheeks turn bright red with the full-force of his flush, Billy gets his answer. He crows, “You did, didn’t you?!”

“Shut up!” Steve huffs, walking faster ahead of Billy and making the blonde jog to catch up. “Don’t make fun of me, okay? He was my first guy. Things were different here in Hawkins.”

“How’d you end up with an older guy, anyway?” Billy asks.

“He was my next-door neighbor,” he groans, flushing brighter red and pushing his face into his hands. “I met Nancy a couple months later, so, it’s not like- I mean, it didn’t last long.”

“You know… you and me have lasted a while,” Billy pipes up after a brief pause. He can’t help but feel proud of that, because this is the longest relationship he’s been in. They haven’t used the word - the _boyfriend_ word - but that’s what they are. Then, Billy smirks. “Plus… you can call me daddy. I wouldn’t mind that.”

Steve rolls his eyes above where he’d dropped his hands a little, but Billy feels like he’s watching the sunrise as Steve’s pleased little smile blooms bright and warm over the horizon of his fingers.

~

The first time Steve suggests they go skinny dipping in the pond, Billy almost rejects him outright. But Steve’s got that glint in his eyes that says he has more plans than just swimming, and Billy?

Billy has a lot of trouble telling Steve no.

They shuck their clothes at the pond’s edge and wade into the shallows up to their waists. Billy ducks under and it’s so weird being underwater and not needing any air. He surfaces and flings his hair back and out of his face in a practiced move from California summers at the beach and Indiana summers lifeguarding at the pool. When he glances around for Steve, he sees him nearby smiling at Billy.

“Come with me,” Steve beckons in a repeat of their first date, grinning deviously, and swims with a grace in the water Billy didn’t know he possessed towards the far side of the pond.

So Billy follows him, because he’s starting to realize that he’d follow Steve anywhere.

They end up under a few willow trees spreading their drooping branches across a small section of shaded shoreline. It provides just the right amount of cover to keep them hidden from prying eyes.

Sloshing out of the water, Steve throws himself onto soft grass just beneath the trees with a huff. He sits there, arms outstretched behind him, knees spread wide and feet planted, and he tilts his head to the side as he looks up at Billy. Billy can’t stop his eyes from sweeping over Steve’s body. Long and lanky, he doesn’t have the bulk of muscle that Billy does but he’s still fit, has an athletic body, and Billy can’t help how he bites at his lower lip just looking at him. Wants to touch him all over, even more than before.

He’s suddenly thankful for the cover of the trees because he doesn’t want anyone else to see Steve like this - in all his glory.

“Sit with me,” Steve demands, looking up at Billy and licking his lips. Almost like Steve’s challenging him.

There comes that bratty side again. Billy kind of loves that about Steve. Loves the challenge. Kind of… kind of loves Steve, too.

He pushes that thought away to think about in the safety of his coffin.

So Billy sits next to him, takes a similar stance and flexes just a bit to show off his own body. He catches Steve’s eyes on him and Billy is so glad that he took care of his body (besides the smoking and the drinking) in his life. Billy knows he looks good. Even with a faded tan, Billy’s got his big blue eyes framed with long lashes, and his full, pink lips, and his devilish grin and the way he waggles his tongue at Steve… Much like he’s currently doing.

Billy smirks and flicks his tongue over his bottom lip as his eyes trail back up Steve’s body. “What’d you bring me here for, pretty boy?”

“Privacy,” Steve tosses his response back at Billy with heat in those dark eyes. He spread his legs a little more and moved one hand to smooth down his chest. “Maybe to play a little.”

“Yeah?”

Billy grins, catching on quickly. His eyes follow the path Steve’s hand takes all the way down to his dick. Watches Steve spit into his hand, onto his fingers, in a move that makes Billy’s own cock twitch. It’s ridiculously sexy, for some reason… Billy can blame it on liking things wet and messy, and maybe a little gross. Steve’s fingers, long and dexterous, curl around the base and start a slow, teasing rhythm.

“You’re gonna spoil me, baby,” Billy states with a teasing little groan and he shifts a little closer. “You’re so _big_. Can’t wait to get my mouth around you.”

His hand moves to hover over Steve’s chest - he wants so badly to touch. To _feel_ again, and to feel _Steve_.

Steve, even though neither of them can feel each other, moans as if he’s imagining the light pressure of Billy’s hand. “Billy…”

“You like that?” the blonde murmurs, eyes fixed on the man in front of him. The night is quiet, just the faint chirp of crickets in the distance. Billy shifts again, turning onto his side. “Lay down for me. Let me see you.”

Steve immediately complies. His eyes are heavy-lidded where they gaze up at Billy and his hand continues its slow pace as he teases himself. 

“God, you look so good like this.” Billy’s hand hovers over Steve’s chest again. “Touch yourself here.” Steve’s hand flies up to his chest and rubs in soft little circles, not doing much beyond adding pressure. “Good, that’s good. How sensitive are your nipples, Stevie?”

Steve mewls his answer, and Billy’s grin turns wicked. 

“Show me. Play with them. Pretend it’s me touching you, sweet thing.”

And Billy _definitely_ sees the way Steve shivers from the term of endearment. His chest arches up into his own touch as his thumb slides over one pec, teasing his nipple into a pert, pink little point, before moving to the other side. Billy hovers his hand over Steve’s and imagines it’s his hand there. It’s almost like he can feel Steve and the way his chest heaves with his panting breaths. Like he’s the one making Steve shiver and gasp and moan.

“On your side,” Billy whispers then lays down next to Steve on his own so that they face each other. His eyes scan over Steve’s body and lands on his cock, fully hard and leaking a little where Steve hasn’t let up from his torturous touches.

Steve can’t stop looking at Billy once Billy’s hand curls around his own cock and gives himself a squeeze.

“Wish I could touch you,” Steve whispers to him, and Billy lets out an involuntary moan. “You look so good. Just wanna make you feel good, too, d-” He cuts himself off with a blush and bites at his lower lip.

“Yeah, _baby_?” Billy grins because he knows what Steve was about to say. He spits into his own hand this time and cups his palm around the wet head before starting to match Steve’s slow pace.

“Yes,” Steve hisses, eyes closing for a mere moment then snapping back open to gaze over at Billy.

Fuck, he looks like pure sex laying there, all on display and only for Billy.

“I want that too,” Billy grunts, hips thrusting forward and if it were Halloween, the tip of Billy’s dick would have brushed against the tip of Steve’s. Maybe bumped into Steve’s fingers, too. Billy’s breathing goes uneven at the thought of such intimacy. “Tell me what else you want.”

“Wanna kiss you, daddy.” Steve says the last word like he’s confessing to a priest, voice as quiet as a whisper, and he shifts so close that his lips hover right next to Billy’s. Steve’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and Billy can’t help the way his tongue darts out involuntarily to lick at Steve’s mouth only to meet air. But apparently Steve sees it because he moans loudly, hand speeding up. “Wanna hold you and kiss you for _hours_. You look so good like this.”

Billy breathes in deeply and he can _almost_ smell the honey shampoo Steve had mentioned using. His own hand starts working over his length faster, fingers tightening. He makes half-aborted thrusts into his own touch and shivers when he catches Steve gazing at him, open-mouthed and panting and so, so fucking _beautiful_. How he’d gotten so lucky to meet Steve, afterlife or not, is a mystery to him. “You can touch me however you want, wherever you want. Can’t wait to touch you, either, baby. Wanna know ‘bout all the spots that get you hot.”

Head arching back, Steve lets out another moan and his hips start pumping too, like he’s getting close and can’t help but chase after his orgasm. Billy’s determined to get him there, is getting so close himself just watching Steve fall apart in front of him.

“Maybe I’ll get you just like you were, spread out like a goddamn throne for me to sit on,” Billy pants out, gritting his teeth. Steve turns onto his back like he’s imagining it. “Climb into your lap and ride you slow and deep until you beg me to go faster, beg me to let you cum inside of me, sweet thing.”

The brunette inhales harshly, a brittle sound that breaks on a moan, and then he starts shooting all over his hand and stomach. Shudders as his orgasm washes through him and he lets out a loud cry of pleasure. 

Billy can’t stop watching and bites down sharply on his lip as his hand flies over his dick. As Steve’s dick leaks a final blurt of cum right into his navel, Billy whimpers Steve’s name and spills over his fist, getting cum all over his fingers and the ground next to Steve.

What he’d give for it to be Halloween and to see his cum marking up Steve’s skin. To see Steve’s streaked over his own.

They lay there, panting, before Steve flops his head to the side and lets out a giggle that has Billy smiling.

“You’re so good to me,” Steve says like he’s confessing a sin and expressing confusion all at once. Like maybe he thinks he doesn’t deserve Billy in the way that Billy sometimes thinks he doesn’t deserve Steve. “I really want to kiss you right now. You look so… so beautiful.”

“Baby boy, I’d have my tongue down your throat the rest of the night if I had my way, with you talking so pretty to me like that,” Billy admits, breathless.

He smiles when Steve breaks down into pleased laughter.

~

On their first Halloween _together_ , Steve kisses him on the bench next to the pond, right at midnight. They spend those first few hours under the willow trees making out and getting a couple quick orgasms out of the way - Billy sucking Steve down his throat, Steve spitting directly on Billy’s cock before putting those long, firm fingers all over it - until the sun rises and they stand next to the pond to watch it together.

They spend the day in town, eating too many fries at the diner and buying proper lube from the pharmacy for later, before finally sharing a booth at the record store to listen to their favorite albums together.

Billy locks the door and hangs his coat in a way that obscures the view inside. The bench on the far wall is too tiny to fit them both side by side, and like hell Billy’s sitting on the floor when he could have Steve’s thighs instead. So he’s got his legs draped over Steve’s and if someone looked in through the window as they passed, if they tried to peer around the coat, they’d see Steve and Billy sitting way too close for two “friends” in a tiny town in rural Indiana.

Since Steve tends to scratch the records, Billy’s been relegated to album duty and takes the job with pride atop such a comfortable throne. Steve is solid beneath him; he’s a warm presence Billy hasn’t felt in a year, and certainly not like this.

They go back and forth with their choices, rather generously if Billy says so himself.

Billy sits through the entirety of Wham’s _Make It Big_ , which Steve discovered last Halloween, without so much as a hint of a complaint. They listen to Metallica’s _Master of Puppets_ with the heavy guitar riffs and heavier vocals, and Billy’s proud that Steve only frowns and scrunches his face up a little during some of the harder songs.

Billy manages to put his foot down when Steve reveals Journey as his next choice, but then the brunette brandishes Foreigner’s _4_. And Billy allows it, though reluctantly so, because Billy doesn’t _hate_ Lou Gramm - kind of envies the guy’s curls - plus he can’t be expected to stand up to those big, brown eyes gazing at him pleadingly.

Billy knows he’s a sucker.

So he takes the album, grumbling, and queues it up on the turntable then carefully places the needle onto the spinning vinyl. Billy finds himself tapping his toe in the air to the beat of the music without realizing it. He’d never owned any of Foreigner’s albums or cassettes, the music being a little too mainstream for Billy’s harder-edged tastes. But Steve’s shimmying under him like all he wants to do is stand up and dance to _Night Life_.

And, okay. Once Steve starts singing the beginning verse to Billy, Billy just has to sing along to the chorus of _Juke Box Hero_ \- he’d be crazy not to. Everyone knows and loves that song. So what if Billy does, too? It’s just Steve and him in the room, with no one else around to judge them as they sing back and forth at each other.

They’re both laughing by the time the song comes to an end and the next starts up, Steve playfully tickling Billy’s sides as Billy flinches away from those hands. The grin on his face lessens the effect of his stern voice as he tells Steve to quit it. They start talking about how shitty new music sounds these days and how nothing could compare to the ‘80s.

Then, arguably one of their most famous songs comes on.

_So long, I've been looking too hard, I've been waiting too long. Sometimes I don't know what I will find, I only know it's a matter of time… When you love someone, when you love someone… It feels so right, so warm and true, I need to know if you feel it too._

Steve curls his arms around Billy’s waist to pull him closer. He’s not singing along this time, but the lyrics coming through the speakers and the intense gaze on Steve’s face makes Billy pink in the cheeks anyway. He scratches at his nose shyly under the scrutiny.

It’s been so long since he’s had someone to hold, and he doesn’t think anyone’s ever held him the way Steve holds him now.

_Maybe I'm wrong, won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong? This heart of mine has been hurt before, this time I want to be sure._

Billy knows he’s got nothing to lose, and it would feel so good to lean over to kiss Steve again… So Billy curls their fingers together and squeezes to get the other man’s attention, finally holding Steve’s hand the way he’s been longing to.

And he takes the leap this time, just as the music swells into the chorus, and presses their lips together.

_I've been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life. I've been waiting for a girl like you, your loving will survive._

He revels in the little noise that slips from Steve’s lips. Steve’s hand moves to the back of his head and slides through his curls in a way that has Billy groaning. As much as they’d touched that morning before the sun rose, he hasn’t had anyone touch him quite like this since before he died, and knowing that it’s _Steve_ makes it all the better.

_I've been waiting for someone new to make me feel alive… Yeah, waiting for a girl like you to come into my life._

Slipping his eyes back open, Billy takes in the flush of Steve’s cheeks and the curve of his rosy lips.

“You’re beautiful,” Billy whispers the confession against Steve’s mouth before capturing it in a kiss. Deep and wet and a little messy, just the way Billy likes it.

The way Steve likes it, too, if the groan below him means anything.

Billy pulls back and stands only to grin when Steve sobs softly at the loss and looks utterly betrayed… right up until Billy pops the button open on his fly oh-so slowly. The blonde can’t help but to look smug at Steve’s reaction. “Told you I was going to ride you, didn’t I? Get your pants down.”

Steve snaps into action and shoves at his jeans without undoing the fly and getting trapped in the process. He fumbles with the button and fails in his attempts. When he looks up at Billy with that little pout and those big, wide eyes, Billy laughs and leans down to kiss Steve again while his fingers deftly undo the button and push the zipper down.

Billy reaches into his jeans and cups Steve through his white briefs, relishing the groan that slips out of Steve’s lips as he does. In the background, the next song starts on the record.

“Can’t wait to get this in me, baby,” he murmurs against Steve’s lips as he squeezes Steve’s dick. They’re sharing the same breath, with Steve panting in pleasure, and Billy tugs Steve’s jeans down _just enough_ so that Billy can get at the real prize.

Even though Billy just blew Steve that morning, buried his nose in the dark curls at the base of Steve’s dick until his eyes watered, he salivates at the mere memory of the salty musk of Steve’s cum on his tongue.

“Can I… can I finger you? Please?” Steve breathes the request, sounding distracted and fucked out already, and they haven’t even gotten started.

Billy bites at Steve’s lower lip, pulling a moan from Steve’s throat, and licks at the redness left behind. “Course you can. All you have to do is ask, sweet thing.” Billy stands up and swipes his thumb over the plushness of Steve’s mouth. “You know I’d give you anything.”

Billy toes off his boots, shimmies out of his jeans, and turns around, placing his hands on the door, to present himself to Steve. Even wiggles his ass temptingly with a dark chuckle when he looks over his shoulder and sees Steve’s eyes and their laser-focus. Those eyes flick up the length of Billy’s back, dark and hazy meeting bright blue.

All amusement ceases immediately when, as if in challenge, Steve leans forward and licks a wide stripe all the way from Billy’s balls to his tailbone. He gasps his surprise, hands spreading to grab feebly at the doorframe. “Steve-”

Steve’s tongue flicks against his hole so slowly, over and over, that all the air gets trapped inside Billy’s chest. He groans on an exhale and pushes his hips back.

“Fuck, baby,” Billy hisses out, gasping again when Steve’s tongue swirls around his hole, teasing and wet, until he pulls back to blow over the mess he’d made. Billy jumps at the suddenness of cool air over such a sensitive spot.

There’s spit dripping down his balls, and if Billy were any other person on the planet, he’d probably find it gross. But he fucking loves it.

Then Steve’s tongue is pressing inside, wriggling its way past the tight furl of Billy’s hole until Billy is whining with need. His legs spread as wide as they can with his jeans down around his ankles and he pushes his hips back, fucking himself on Steve’s tongue. Steve is moaning into his ass as if this is exactly what he wants. Like he’s getting off on it as much as Billy is.

“You taste so good,” Steve whispers against the meat of his ass when he pulls back, nibbling over Billy’s flesh. “Can’t wait to get inside you.”

Billy fucking whimpers.

He hears a rustling of the brown paper bag with their wares from the pharmacy, the snick of the lid of the lube, and the slick noise of Steve coating his fingers and rubbing them together. One finger slides over his crack to rub over his entrance in slow, teasing circles.

“C’mon,” Billy urges, pressing his ass back into the touch. Sure, it’s been years since he last got fucked - before he moved to Hawkins, at the very least - but Billy knows he won’t break with a little rough treatment. He’s so eager for it after “Give me another. I’m not made of glass, baby boy. Daddy can take it.”

Behind him, Billy hears a breath catch in Steve’s throat at the easy way Billy dropped the terms into conversation. Steve slips his finger out and presses two back in all the way, not rough but so deep. Billy gasps; it feels so _good_ , because Steve’s fingers are longer than his own.

“Press down,” Billy says, spreading his legs as wide as they’ll go with his jeans around his knees. “Find my spot, pretty b-”

Steve does, hooks his fingers and searches. Billy groans when Steve brushes over it, and that seems to spur the brunette on because he starts rubbing against the spot almost cruelly, working Billy into a frenzy. Billy can’t even think with the way Steve’s working him open - spreading his fingers, shoving them back in, teasing him over and over.

“G-gimme a third, baby,” Billy moans and his fingers dig into nothing, because he has absolutely no purchase on the wooden door in front of him. His head hangs down as he pants and rocks his hips back eagerly.

The third is a lot, not painful at all but… it’s a stretch. He glances over his shoulder again to see Steve’s eyes locked on where his fingers push into him messily, spreading them wide as he pulls them out only to shove them back in. Billy feels like he’s on display with the way Steve looks at him, and Billy likes it, likes it a lot. It brings a grunt from Billy’s lips, and Steve glances up at that to meet Billy’s eyes.

It gets just this side of too intense when Steve’s fingers slide in and curl down, rubbing over and over until Billy has to shut his eyes and arch his head back and fucking _whimper_ , it’s so fucking good.

“Fuck, take ‘em out and lube up your dick,” Billy huffs out his commands, slapping Steve’s hand away. “Need it. Need you in me.”

Steve reaches out to steady him with a hand on either side of Billy’s hips when Billy struggles to get his jeans off from where they’d pooled around his ankles. Now, named from the waist down, Billy turns around and straddles Steve on the bench.

“Tell me what you want, sweet thing,” Billy purrs against Steve’s mouth, licking at those pouty lips he obsesses over so much. _Urgent_ comes on the record, starting up an up-tempo beat, and Billy settles his hands atop Steve’s shoulders.

“Want you,” Steve tells him, and Billy shakes his head as a hand smooths over Steve’s skin to press lightly over the front of his neck. Billy watches as those big eyes flutter shut and he feels the gasp that catches in Steve’s throat. “W-want you, daddy. _Please_.”

“There you go, that’s a good boy,” Billy whispers, thumb rubbing over the edge of Steve’s jaw. “Just gotta use your words.”

He reaches back with his free hand and lines himself up, dropping down slow and steady. Steve’s long, thick length is a world away from three of his fingers. By the time Billy settles in Steve’s lap, both of them are panting from the exertion - Billy from taking something this big, Steve from keeping himself from thrusting up before Billy’s ready - and Billy feels so full. 

Even though it’s a sensation he won’t soon forget, he still takes a moment to commit it to his memory because after today he won’t feel this again for another year.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” Billy mumbles, dropping his face into Steve’s neck to bite and lick at the soft, pale skin there.

He sinks his teeth into the spot right over two moles of which Billy has memorized. Steve grunts below him and thrusts up in reaction to the bite. Billy breathes in shakily, eyes fluttering as the head of Steve’s cock knocks into his prostate and sends sparks shooting up his spine.

Billy sits down hard, grinds his hips in a slow circle. It’s maddening how good Steve feels inside of him like this, so deep and so thick. “Nuh-uh, baby. Daddy’s in charge.”

Steve hisses as the weight of Billy presses him down and keeps him pinned right where he is. Right where Billy wants him.

“Hands on the bench,” Billy demands.

Steve snaps into motion, hands moving from where they had been resting on Billy’s hips to lay flat on the bench. Watching this happen, Billy knows his blue eyes must seem to grow dark from how his pupils blow wide in his arousal.

“Good boy. You’re so good, Stevie.”

Steve whimpers at the praise, and the sound goes right to Billy’s dick.

His hands move to cup Steve’s cheeks and tilt his head back, chin up, so he can look deep into Steve’s eyes as Billy starts to move atop him. The stretch and slide is agonizingly good, almost as if he’s punishing both of them for wanting this so bad. Billy pushes his thumb up past Steve’s parted lips, into his mouth to press down on his tongue.

“So beautiful,” Billy groans when Steve wraps those lips around Billy’s thumb and starts to suck.

With their eyes still locked, Steve scrapes his teeth so gently over Billy’s thumb and Billy gasps and pushes his hips down harder. Makes them both moan loud enough that Billy wonders just how soundproof these walls are.

“Baby,” Billy whimpers, gritting his teeth as he tries not to lose it.

“Daddy, you feel so good,” Steve tells him, voice just shy of a mewl from how needy he sounds. “You’re so…”

“So what, baby boy?” Billy prompted, holding Steve’s face still. Keeping Steve's gaze and attention focused solely on him. “Tell me. What am I?”

“You’re so tight, daddy,” Steve whines, and Billy feels him shifting restlessly below him but his hands stay on the bench.

“Just for you, Stevie, all for you,” Billy moans, biting at Steve’s lip.

“So beautiful,” Steve continues, and Billy doesn’t know if he’s hot in the face from the fucking or from Steve’s words. “You look so beautiful, daddy, can’t believe you’re all mine.”

Billy moves his hands to brace them on Steve’s shoulders as he picks up his pace, rising and falling faster as he loses himself in the motion, the stretch, the feeling of being stuffed so full of Steve. Of being _in control_ of Steve.

“Doing so good for me, baby.”

Steve’s getting more and more restless, and Billy knows by now that it means Steve is getting close. Really close, from the way Steve’s cheeks are starting to get that blotchy red color instead of the smooth pink. 

Steve hates it about himself, calls it ugly, but Billy thinks it’s sexy. He can’t explain it. It’s just that when Steve gets like this - gets to be a proper fucking mess, sweaty-skinned and mouth wide on panting breaths, and that blotchy flush spreads over his face - Billy can’t help but think he’s the sexiest fucking thing he’s ever seen in all the years he’s been on this earth.

“You getting close?” Billy asks him, licking his own lips as he starts to go even faster. Slams his hips down, relishes the tension coiling in the body below him. “D’you wanna cum, Stevie?”

“Yes, yes,” Steve chants and whines when Billy slows down.

“What do you say?” Billy reprimands him, voice rough with arousal. “Be good for me. Tell me like a nice boy.”

“Daddy, _please_ ,” Steve begs, and pleasure curls sharp in Billy’s gut from the sound of Steve’s voice whining for him, begging for him. It gets Billy right on the edge. “Please, I wanna cum. Wanna cum inside you, you said I could, daddy, please!”

“That’s my good boy,” Billy purrs the praise, panting and moaning and fucking himself on Steve’s cock. “So good, baby. You’ve been so good for me. Go ahead and cum inside me. Cum for daddy.”

Billy’s hand moves from Steve’s shoulder to his neck again and squeezes his throat, tighter than before, and like a rubber band Steve snaps his head back against the wall, cries out Billy’s name, and spills inside him. Billy drops his hand from Steve’s neck to start stroking over his dick, grunting as he slams his hips down and circles them, just grinding Steve’s dick inside him until Billy’s just about to cum.

“Wanna see you cum, daddy,” comes Steve’s weak , throaty voice below him, and he digs his fingers into Billy’s hips. His teeth graze the side of Billy’s neck. “Please. Wanna see it, wanna feel you cum around me, daddy.”

That’s all it takes, apparently - Steve’s fucked out voice and Steve begging him - and Billy’s shooting ropes of white onto his fingers and Steve’s shirt.

He sits there, panting in Steve’s lap with his dick still inside and softening, before he leans in and kisses Steve hard. Swallowing the moan from Steve’s mouth, Billy pulls back again to kiss Steve’s forehead sweetly and he reaches up to push his hair away from his forehead.

“You- fuck, baby,” Billy groans and presses their foreheads together. He can’t even put into words how much this means to him.

Steve’s arms wrap around Billy’s waist to pull him close. Billy’s getting cum on his own shirt but he doesn’t even care because the closeness is overwhelming in how good it is. How intimate and tender.

“You’re so good for me. I’m so lucky to have you,” Billy whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve pushes his face into Billy’s neck and it’s so fucking cute that Billy’s heart swells beneath his sternum like it’s trying to break free from his chest to get to Steve.

“I love you,” Steve whispers into his hiding spot.

Billy grins. _So_ goddamn cute.

“Yeah, sweet thing?” Steve nods in his neck and Billy uses his clean hand to card through Steve’s hair. He tugs at it and carefully eases Steve’s face away from his neck. He kisses Steve’s mouth slow and deep, then leans back to just look at this beautiful man below him. “You know I love you too.”

Steve angles his head up for a kiss and just before Billy can seal their lips together, there comes a hesitant but loud knocking at the door.

“Sir? Sir, I’ve been getting complaints about this room,” says the employee on the other side of the door. “I’m going to have to ask you to unlock the door.”

“Give me a second,” Billy barks back with a harsh voice. “Fuck, can’t get a goddamn moment of peace, can I?”

“Sir, that’s not very appropriate,” the employee stutters.

Billy can tell it’s the pimple-faced teen who’d been manning the register up front, knows he’s peered around the line of his jacket curiously when Billy hears the shocked gasp. He undoubtedly sees Billy’s bare ass. Maybe even the base of Steve’s dick inside it.

Steve looks at Billy and is utterly mortified, but Billy just snickers as the record clicks off in the background.

Needless to say, they get kicked out of the music store.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally arriving at their plots, Steve reaches out and holds his hand just next to Billy’s. “Thank you for spending time with them tonight. It means a lot to me.”
> 
> Billy shrugs and ducks his head against the urge to smile at Steve. “I had fun. I liked spending time with them. And spending time with you. You’re my boyfriend, after all.”
> 
> Steve’s smile widens. “Boyfriend, huh?”
> 
> “What else would we be?” Billy asks, looking up at Steve through his eyelashes.

Time is a weird, fluid, subjective experience when you’re dead.

Months go by punctuated with Halloween, almost like the afterlife’s New Year.

But even with Halloween, there are certain days that cause moods, whether a ghost realizes it or not. Birthdays, death days, important days in a ghost’s life - all these times that leave a mark on a person forever in their afterlife. There are days where Billy won’t leave his coffin, and days where Steve won’t leave his either.

Then, there are days where they spend time with other ghosts but share glances and smiles across the graveyard. Steve, unsurprisingly, is a lot more social than Billy is and has friends all over the cemetery.

Because now that Billy’s not seeking attention and submission from everyone in high school to make up for his shitty home life, he pretty much sticks to himself, Steve, and Barb. When Billy makes friends with a little boy named Joey, who got hit by a car while he was riding his bike in the late ‘60s, he’s kind of proud of himself because he takes the boy under his wing. They have very little in common besides both of them having played Little League, but they still manage to find plenty to talk and laugh about.

One night, Billy spots Steve talking to the Flahertys and, in an uncharacteristically sociable move, he makes his way over to the small group. He likes spending time with Steve and he wouldn’t mind getting to know this couple who Steve seems to like so much. 

It’s a little awkward when Mr. Flaherty, who spots him first, gives him this confused side-eye as Billy comes closer. Steve catches the look and turns to see what the commotion is only to send him that dopey, besotted, absolutely heart-melting smile that he seems to reserve for Billy. The blonde can’t help but smile back.

“Hey Billy,” Steve greets, scooting over on one of the stone benches at the base of the Flaherty statue and double headstone. He pats the seat next to him. “Come sit with us. Mr. Flaherty was telling me about Hawkins back in his day.”

Billy sits, a little gingerly as if he expects at any moment for someone to ask him to leave, and catches Mrs. Flaherty smiling softly at him. He tunes his attention into the older man who gives Billy one last look, then continues whatever story he’d left off of.

“-then when I pulled my skirts up-”

“Wait, skirts?” Billy interrupts, confused, because Steve seems to be following along easily but Billy doesn’t understand. “Were you playing a joke?”

“Dear,” Mrs. Flaherty says gently. “My Robert here was born a Ruth.”

Billy’s jaw drops open. At first, he doesn’t believe her with her eyes sparkling so obviously in amusement, but Steve merely shrugs when Billy looks at him and Mr. Flaherty sighs and rubs his forehead.

“How did that- what? You can do that?”

“Ehh,” Mr. Flaherty says with an indifferent tone. “I did. I started dressing as a guy and getting work in different small towns. People ask less questions like that. Finally came to Hawkins from Chicago and met my beautiful Bess here. Didn’t deserve her, did I?”

“You never did,” she teases.

“Got away with it til my death when the doctor had to come inspect the body. Got a right fright when he checked me, didn’t he Bess?” He sends a roguish sort of grin in Mrs. Flaherty’s direction and she blushes prettily.

“He sure did.”

“But, see, me and Bess were respected in the old community. I was friends with the doctor, and Bess’s daddy practically owned half the town,” Mr. Flaherty continued. “Throw some money at the man and he shut his mouth, dressed me for burial, and Bess got to be the proper widow she needed to be. Got us this beautiful plot. Did a good job, didn’t she?”

Billy’s mind is still stuck on something. “So… you’re a girl?”

“No,” Mr. Flaherty replies succinctly.

Billy waits for a continuation and never gets it. He shakes his head. “But you were born a girl.”

“Never quite felt like one.” Mr. Flaherty lifted a shoulder and dropped it, casual as ever. “Imagine if you’d been put into skirts all your life when you’re not meant to be. I was just born in the wrong body.”

“But, like, how do you… y’know…” He gestures vaguely between the couple and then waggles his eyebrows pointedly.

“Billy,” Steve hisses from next to him. If it were Halloween, Billy’s sure he’d be feeling a bony elbow digging into his ribs. “Don’t be inappropriate. That’s none of your business.”

“Don’t worry, boy,” Mr. Flaherty grins at Billy, and it’s sharp and a little cruel around the edges. “I keep her _very_ satisfied.”

Billy feels a spark of admiration for the man. Intimidation, too. He gulps and glances at Mrs. Flaherty who watches him placidly. He can’t help but feel like he’s in the middle of a test being asked to finish up his answers in ten seconds.

“Uh, yes. Sorry, sir. Like Steve said, that’s none of my business.”

Billy stands up and brushes his hands over his jeans; it’s not like they’re dirty, but it’s a force of habit.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mr. Flaherty asks, gruff and gentle all at once. 

Billy freezes, blue eyes wide in surprise. He thought he’d done enough putting his foot into his mouth for the evening, so he had it in his mind to go back to his coffin to sulk for the next couple of days, but now he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do. Does he answer Mr. Flaherty and say he’s going back to his grave, because after a life of Neil breathing down his neck, he knows when he doesn’t belong somewhere?

Then, Mrs. Flaherty laughs brightly.

“Sit down, my dear,” she tells him with a hand outstretched in a welcoming manner. “Let my husband finish his story about Chicago - you’ll love it.”

And Mr. Flaherty even fills Billy in on the details he’d missed before he first entered the conversation. The man spins a tale about how, when he’d still been presenting as a woman, he’d been propositioned by the owner of the home he’d been working in as a maid. Instead of succumbing to the pressure to sleep with a man twice his age, Mr. Flaherty was fired and stole a diamond from the house by smuggling it out in his corset. Then, he’d been chased after by the old man’s hired thugs.

By the end of the story, Billy is in stitches alongside Steve, and Mrs. Flaherty looks amused by a story she’s heard probably a hundred times if not more. Mr. Flaherty looks utterly pleased with himself from having such a captivated, responsive audience.

Steve and Billy say goodnight to the couple and walk back to their own graves, side by side. Billy wishes he could hold Steve’s hand like they’re a normal, living couple. But at least they can share smiles, and keep laughing, and they drag their feet along the way.

Finally arriving at their plots, Steve reaches out and holds his hand just next to Billy’s. “Thank you for spending time with them tonight. It means a lot to me.”

Billy shrugs and ducks his head against the urge to smile at Steve. “I had fun. I liked spending time with them. And spending time with you. You’re my boyfriend, after all.”

Steve’s smile widens. “Boyfriend, huh?”

“What else would we be?” Billy asks, looking up at Steve through his eyelashes.

Steve leans in close and kisses the air over Billy’s lips. It’s a whisper of a thing, the scent of honey on the slightest chill in the air, but even that small sensation is everything to Billy.

“Goodnight, tiger,” Steve murmurs into that space.

Billy shivers. “Goodnight, sweet thing. Rest easy.”

~

A few more years go by, or maybe ten. But the next thing Billy knows, it’s 2017, exactly thirty years after he died.

By now, Steve’s befriended a girl with a B-surname, Robin Buckley, who died in, like 2002, in a freak accident involving a deep freezer at the TCBY where she worked. Billy still couldn’t wrap his mind around why anyone would prefer frozen yogurt to real ice cream, but he took solace in the commiserating look on Steve’s face from behind Robin’s back.

It becomes very obvious to her, very quickly, that they’re in a relationship just from how close they come to touching, and just as quickly she lets out a sigh of relief and simply says, “Thank fuck. I’m gay as shit, too.”

Billy likes Robin, which is exactly why he coaxes Barb out of her coffin to introduce the two. It doesn’t take them five years to warm up to each other like Steve and Billy had taken. And, from what he can tell, they behave much like he and Steve had when they first started their relationship.

Her addition to their little group encourages the four of them to go on Halloween adventures, Robin asking so many questions of these “seasoned” ghosts. So, every year after, they try to go further and further away from Hawkins, and every year they manage to make it. It’s fun to test their limits. 

It makes Billy think, and he slips it to Steve one night, close to sunrise, when they were resting next to each other in the dirt between their coffins. Billy finds it easier to hold his hand over Steve’s waist this way, and Steve told him that it almost felt like his back was truly pressed to Billy’s chest.

Which is how Billy finds himself, 20 years after he died, on a flight out to California. He feels like any moment, he’ll snap back to his coffin and won’t see the Pacific ever again.

“Hey,” Steve whispers next to him, leaning close to nuzzle the space behind Billy’s ear. “You okay?”

“Just… kind of expecting this all to be a dream,” Billy confesses. He can’t stop fidgeting, alternating between curling his fingers into his jeans and picking at the hem of his leather jacket. “Like we’re going too far away or something.”

“Worst case scenario, we go back. But we won’t know until we try.”

Billy knows Steve is right, and it makes him relax _just a little bit_ when Steve curls their pinkies together. The brunette falls asleep against Billy’s shoulders an hour later, and he sleeps all the way through the flight. Billy couldn’t sleep, not as keyed up as he is.

He thought he’d be trapped in Hawkins forever. He knew that not to be true when they went to Indianapolis, and then Chicago, and then New York. But they’d never taken a flight before, and certainly hadn’t tried traveling as far as California, but they’d been hovering at the edge of the fog and were ready to call a cab with a disposable phone Robin had hidden last Halloween because, apparently, the three of them had planned this for Billy all on their own.

And as the plane started to circle above LAX at six in the morning, sun still behind the horizon, Billy can’t help the jittery feeling on his skin as they exit the plane and flag down a taxi to take them all to the beach. They miss sunrise, but Billy can’t believe it when the cab pulls up to Santa Monica just after eight and there’s the pier, and the beach, almost like he remembers them.

Billy toes his shoes off to wiggle his toes in the sand after walking down the wooden path. He licks his lips in anticipation as he heads for the water. It’s California in October, so the day isn’t incredibly _chill_ per say, but he knows the water will be.

Because stretched out before him is the Pacific Ocean.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there simply staring, but he feels Steve walk up next to him. Billy slings an arm around Steve’s waist and tugs him close.

“You gonna go in the water?”

“Just my feet,” Billy murmurs, watching the waves come in slowly.

He takes one step, then another, and moves his arm from Steve’s waist to twine their fingers together. Walking ahead of Steve, he drags the brunette behind him as he plods forward. It feels like as soon as his toes touch the water, he’s going to disappear. Or wake from a really bad dream, a torturous one where he almost had the ocean again.

The water laps at his feet, cold as he remembers, and his breath hitches in his chest.

Steve comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Billy.

“Welcome home.”

Billy lets out a watery laugh and reaches up to clutch at one of Steve’s arms. His thumb brushes over the back of Steve’s wrist and his fingers curl around it, squeezing gently. Lovingly.

“Yeah. I’m definitely home.”

~

Barb and Robin get bored of the beach and stroll off to explore the pier while Billy finds a surfboard rental and goes out on the water for hours. Steve sets up shop at one of the beach tent rentals to stay out of the sun and Billy joins him around noon, his skin looking pink and his freckles standing out even more from all the sun. Billy crashes for an hour and wakes up with his face mashed into Steve’s chest.

“Welcome back,” Steve laughs, carding his fingers through Billy’s hair. “You hungry? We can go meet Robin and Barb for lunch.”

He waggles the prepaid phone Robin had bought him with her number already programmed into it.

“Yeah,” Billy yawns and stretches, then smirks when he notices Steve’s very interested gaze. “Save that look for later, baby. I’ll get you good tonight.”

Steve smiles and leans in to press a soft kiss to Billy’s lips, but it turns dirty quickly the way it usually does with them. “I’ll hold you to that.” Steve licks at Billy’s lower lip in a move that he absolutely stole from the blonde. He pulls back, gaze dark with desire, and murmurs, “Daddy.”

Billy nips at Steve’s lower lip as heat flared in his eyes. “Just you wait.”

Steve calls Robin and they all meet at a tiny taco stand and sit under umbrella-shaded tables. They eat too much and drink margaritas, which Billy buys since Steve, Barb, and Robin have IDs that match their age at death, and generally have an amazing time.

Just before sunset, the couples go their separate ways. Barb and Robin want to get photos at the little booth on the pier and then _they_ will be making their way back to the airport to grab a flight home, hoping to make it in time before midnight to keep their wares - the new phone and some California-themed magnets which Barb wants to set up at her headstone.

Billy’s not worried about them, since he’ll see them in a few hours anyway.

“I still can’t believe you guys planned this for a year,” Billy says, shaking his head in disbelief but smiling in shy contentment.

“ _Steve_ has been planning this since our first adventure out of Hawkins,” Robin corrects.

Billy cuts his eyes over to his boyfriend and looks at the pink in Steve’s cheeks and the way he can’t seem to meet those big eyes he loves so much.

“Did you really?” Billy asks, reaching out to curl their fingers together. Steve shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but Billy flings his arms around Steve’s waist and presses his face into Steve’s neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Today was amazing.”

“Alright lovebirds,” Barb snarks, patting Billy’s shoulder. “We’re off. See you later.”

Billy takes Steve, hand in hand - and isn’t that a treat? California had always been more accepting, but it’s more normal now for two men to be together - and leads him back to the beach to watch the sunset. Standing there, arms wrapped around Steve with his chin hooked over Steve’s shoulder, Billy’s never felt more content.

“You wanna get out of here?” Billy asks once dusk starts to settle in, murmurs the question against the shell of Steve’s ear. He passes his hand over Steve’s chest and lets his thumb brush teasingly over one of Steve’s nipples just to hear the stifled gasp that Steve keeps behind his lips.

“Yeah,” comes the breathy reply.

Billy finds them a place that takes cash. It’s a clean room, thankfully, cheap because it’s tiny as fuck and the entire motel has no amenities, not even free on-site parking, but they don’t need anything beyond a bed and a shower.

As soon as they’re through the door, Billy has Steve pushed back against it with their mouths locked in a deep kiss. He shoves Steve’s shirt up and ducks his head to suck one nipple into his mouth, tongue laving over it, then switches sides to give attention to the other one.

Steve’s already hard in his jeans when Billy’s hand drops to cup him.

“So ready for me, aren’t you?” Billy mumbles, biting harshly at Steve’s neck. “So good for me. So good _to_ me, baby. I’ll give you anything you want, just gotta ask me for it.”

“Billy,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as Billy continues to leave mark after mark over his neck. “Please. I want- I want-”

He seems to choke on the words so Billy pulls back and gives him a little space.

“What do you want, sweet thing? Tell me.”

“I want your tongue,” Steve whispers, face flushing bright red. His own tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “I want your tongue…on me.”

Billy grins, a devilish gleam in his eyes. He knows exactly what Steve wants, but Steve’s feeling shy about it - they've done _that_ particular act only a couple of times before. So instead of acquiescing, he decides to take the opportunity to tease Steve instead.

“Where do you want it, Stevie?” Billy rubs his palm over Steve’s cock in what he knows is a delicious drag that won’t be enough. “Here? Is this where you want it?”

Steve groans at the touch and pushes his hips into Billy’s hand, but he shakes his head. “Not- not there.” The blush spreads down his neck as Steve spreads his legs and hooks one up over Billy’s waist.

“I wanna hear you say it for me, baby,” he whispers into Steve’s ear. It’s a tease, he knows, but it’s the truth. He wants to hear it come from Steve’s lips. Wants Steve to beg him for it. “Tell daddy where you want it.”

Steve rubs his ass against Billy but when Billy’s tongue waggles out of his mouth almost mockingly where Billy keeps him pinned, he groans and thumps his head back against the door. “I want it… in me. In my ass.”

It’s Billy’s turn to groan, rutting his cock against Steve’s as he pins the taller man against the door. “Fuck, baby. You know how much I love your ass. Gonna eat that sweet peach ‘til you’re begging for my dick.”

“Daddy, _please_ ,” Steve begs. It’s an addictive sound. “Want you so bad…”

Billy quite literally rips Steve’s shirt off, the two tiny buttons of his polo shirt scattering somewhere in the room. He shucks his own shirt in the most perfunctory way, with only one hand, and manhandles Steve onto the bed where he bounces a little from being thrown to the mattress.

Not that Steve _looks_ like he minds, much. He kind of looks fucked out already with the way his eyes have gone dark and focused on Billy.

Steve wriggles out of his jeans with very little finesse, but Billy’s more interested in getting Steve naked and pinned under his hands and mouth than watching him try a striptease. 

Though, that gives him plenty of ideas for next Halloween…

Once Steve’s underwear are flung across the room, landing on the lampshade, Billy smooths his hands over those long legs then ducks down to press a kiss to the inside of Steve’s knee.

“You’re gonna be a good boy for me tonight, yeah?” Billy purrs from where he’s crouched between Steve’s thighs. His lips press another kiss to the other leg, higher up, and he smothers a grin by biting into the soft, creamy flesh right over one of his favorite moles dotting Steve’s legs.

“Yes, daddy,” Steve whimpers above him.

Billy licks his lips and pushes his hands under Steve’s lower back to hike him up the mattress so he’s laid back against the pillows. “You lay there and let me take care of you, baby. You’ve done so much for me today.”

Billy kisses down his body reverently, stopping to press his mouth over every single one of Steve’s moles and beauty marks. He trails his lips over the thin line of hair leading from Steve’s navel to the base of his dick, but instead of going south and wrapping his lips around the head to suckle it the way he usually does, Billy grabs Steve’s legs and slings them over his shoulders to keep him spread open.

Cupping Steve’s ass, Billy starts slowly kneading the flesh, teasing his lover. As Steve pushes into the touch, Billy lets his thumbs spread Steve open so he can get a better look. Ducking his head down, he nibbles at the crease of skin between the top of his thigh and the bottom of his ass, making Steve jump below him.

Billy pulls back and his eyes fall back to Steve’s hole. 

“God, baby,” he mutters while one thumb pushes forward against his entrance, dry and rough. It pulls another sound from Steve and so Billy glances up to see him staring down at Billy with his lip bitten between his teeth. Billy grins at Steve. “You know how good you look like this?”

Steve hesitantly shakes his head and his legs flex over Billy’s shoulders like he’s fighting the urge to close his legs against Billy’s intense gaze. 

“You look perfect,” he tells Steve, voice rough, as he drops his head so his breath flutters out over Steve’s hole. “So perfect for me.”

And then Billy moves in and slides his tongue thick and blunt and wide over Steve’s hole. Steve gasps and Billy can practically see in his mind’s eye the way Steve is probably drawn tight like a bow, chest arched up and head pressed against the pillows. Fucking _beautiful_.

He points his tongue to trace lightly around the entrance in tiny circles that grow fuller the longer he stays there. He fastens his lips over the top of Steve’s hole, sucking gently. A broken moan slips from Steve’s mouth as his long fingers tug at Billy’s hair, which only spurs Billy on.

Pushing his tongue against the tight furl of Steve’s hole, Billy slips it inside and curls it inward. Revels in the way Steve clenches and relaxes and rocks against his face. Those fingers tighten and the sounds get louder - both Steve’s moans and the slick sound of Billy eating him out. Maybe next time, Billy could convince Steve to straddle his face.

Billy pulls back and looks at the wet mess he’d left behind before his eyes raise up Steve’s body to see how he is.

It’s that splotchy red of exertion, the same when he’s so close to coming all over himself. Billy blows softly over the wet hole the way Steve had done to him that first time and watches Steve’s whole body shiver. Steve looks down his body at Billy.

With their gazes intent, Billy darts his eyes away only to spit on Steve's hole and flicks his gaze back up to Steve as he pushes a thick finger inside.

“Touch yourself. Slowly,” Billy instructs. His voice is rougher than he’d thought it would be. It’s with sudden, sharp clarity that he realizes how hard he is in his jeans. He pumps his finger once, twice, and nips at Steve’s thigh when he goes too fast. “I said slowly. Thought you said you’d be good for me tonight.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good, please,” Steve pleads, his fingers not only slowing down but going loose, too. “Daddy, fuck- I want you to- to _fuck_ me.”

Billy groans against Steve’s thigh at the way his voice has gone deeper and huskier with how needy he is. Sucking a dark mark into the pale cream of Steve’s thigh, Billy rocks his dick against the bed while Steve curses and bucks his hips, squeezing around Billy’s finger.

“Since you asked,” Billy says with a tiny grin, kissing Steve’s knee before pulling his finger out and rooting around in the bag on the bedside table for the bottle of lube before he drizzles it over his fingers.

The stuff these days was way better than using Vaseline or cooking oil like he’d had to use back when he’d been alive. This stuff is so smooth, and it heats up a little as he rubs it between his fingers and gets them real slick. Billy slides his middle finger in, no problem, angles it right up against Steve’s spot and taps, again and again, until Steve is shaking.

He pulls away to pump two in and spreads them deep inside, makes Steve cry out from the stretch and curl his fingers in the sheets. Which will be absolutely ruined after this with as much lube Billy had used on his fingers. Getting Steve ready, getting him nice and wet, working his hole open with practiced movements, Billy can’t stop flicking his eyes between Steve’s face and his ass.

“Doing so good baby, just a little longer,” Billy tells him, leaning in to kiss the center of his chest.

Steve nods weakly, gritting his teeth against a third one, and almost involuntarily rocks his hips down against the thick digit pressing inside. “Please,” he starts to chant, and his eyes glitter when he looks at Billy. “Please, need it…”

Billy can only handle that for so long before he, too, has lost all patience and perfunctorily lubes his cock. With a little more spread over Steve’s hole, Billy finally lines up and pushes forward, a grunt slipping from his throat when the head pops in. Steve’s always so goddamn tight, and every Halloween feels so _hot_.

Sweat beads on his temples as he eases in, tongue licking at his lower lip. Billy swoops down to kiss Steve, the brunette moaning and clutching at him when Billy’s finally seated all the way inside. Long, lean limbs wrap around his body and Billy can’t help the way he moans in tandem with Steve when Steve squeezes around him.

“You feel so big,” Steve whispers, voice breaking on his words. He digs his heels into Billy’s ass and rocks himself against his boyfriend, making Billy mutter a tiny _“fuck”_ under his breath. Steve’s finally gotten so mindless with the need to come that he’s pushed past his shyness. “Yeah, daddy, c’mon… wanna feel you all night. Wanna think about this all year ‘til I can get you again. Please…”

How could Billy ever say no to such an absolutely wonderful, sinful request as that?

He pulls his hips out carefully and thrusts back in, teasing Steve with a hard thrust that has him gasping followed by a slow, sensuous circle of his hips that has those long fingers back in his hair. They pull and tug and clench, make Billy moan and senselessly buck into the tight, slick heat of Steve’s body.

He starts a steady pace, nothing too hard yet, to work them up even further. Billy wants to make their first time together this year as mind-blowing as this whole trip had been. Soon the only sound in the room is skin on skin, heaving breaths and stuttered affirmations back and forth, until Billy pulls back and wiggles his legs under Steve.

He grabs Steve’s knees and kneels up, pulling Steve down the bed and pulling his body taut as Bully begins to pound into him.

“Shit!” Steve shouts with his hands slamming down against the mattress for purchase. “Fuck, I’m gonna- please, let me-”

Billy reaches down quickly, lube still on his hand, and starts stripping Steve’s cock roughly. “Come for me, baby, been so good all night. You deserve it, take it, let me see you fall apart, Stevie.”

Not even four full strokes later, Steve comes and spills all over Billy’s hand and his own stomach, some landing near the mole next to his nipple. His entire body clenches up, and it’s one of the most beautiful sights Billy’s ever seen - Steve covered in his own cum, mouth hanging open.

Billy pushes two fingers into Steve’s mouth, the two that were covered in his cum. Steve moans around them with his eyes squeezed shut, and closes his mouth to suck and tongue at them as he clenches rhythmically around Billy’s cock.

“Oh, _fuck_!” Billy’s thrusting grows erratic as he finds himself suddenly on the edge.

Letting out noises of his own that he’ll be embarrassed by later, Billy’s hips stutter forward as he comes, spilling inside of Steve as he pumps his cock in deep. Steve’s arms cradle him, hissing out, _“yes, yes,”_ in encouragement as Billy shakes apart atop him.

When they’ve both recovered their breath, Billy pulls himself away from Steve’s neck and leans up to kiss him again. It’s not the wet-and-messy sort of kiss, but the slow and sweet kind, full of meaning and emotion; it feels good after such an intense bout of sex.

“God I love you,” Billy mumbles against Steve’s mouth.

Steve sounds just as fucked out as he looks when he slurs out, “I love you too.”

~

When Billy snaps back to his grave at midnight, it’s after falling asleep in Steve’s arms, feeling safe and sound with his boyfriend playing big spoon behind him. He startles awake like the first time he rose as a ghost, feels snapped like the first time he’d gone too far into the fog.

He looks over at Steve’s headstone and there he is, too, shocked and then at the same time they both start laughing happily. Because it _worked._ Billy got to see the west coast, got to go surfing and play in the water and drink up the sun and smell the salt on the breeze.

And he got to bring Steve with him for all of it.

Billy throws himself up to stand and winks at Steve. “Well, pretty boy, the night’s still young.”

Steve laughs and chases after him. They race to one of their favorite trees to climb and spend the rest of the evening being absolutely silly with each other and teasing Barb and Robin, who’ve commandeered a stone bench under one of the trees in the graveyard. In general, they make utter nuisances of themselves and can’t stop laughing as they do.

Walking back to their graves after such a long, amazing day feels much like it did coming home after a night out on Halloween. Billy never wants it to come to an end.

“Did you have fun?” Steve asks as they come to their plots. The sun is just about to break through the fog. He reaches up and his hand hovers over Billy’s cheek.

“You know I love you.” Billy stares into Steve’s eyes as he says so, his own hand moving over where Steve’s not quite cups his face. If they were corporeal, Billy would be nuzzling into Steve’s hand. “This Halloween was amazing.”

“I do know. And I love you. It’s why I wanted to do something special for you.” Steve smiles, eyes curving in happiness, and he backs away slowly towards his headstone. “Goodnight, Billy.”

“Goodnight, Steve,” Billy whispers, smiling back, and sinks down through the dirt and back into his coffin.

He’s resting alone, yes, but with the knowledge that he has someone to spend his afterlife with - until their bones turn to dust and their coffins rot away, and they return completely to the earth. 

Until they truly pass on from this world, undoubtedly together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There - she’s done! Finally! I’ve had a rough week between work and school so I ran behind getting my fic ready.
> 
> Some fun trivia: Historically speaking, there are a few accounts that made it to the newspaper of people who had lived their adult lives as men who were born female, a fact that only came to light after they died. While it’s unclear whether these were transmen or lesbian women, I chose the representation I wanted to see.
> 
> I had a lot of fun creating this ghostly world?? I can’t believe this was all spurred on by the phrase “haunted rim.”
> 
> I also have a tumblr which you can find [here](https://rvspberryjvm.tumblr.com/) if you so choose! I don’t do prompts but I like talking to people about various headcanons and other fun stuff.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic. Please, if you would, leave a kudo and/or a comment to let me know you did!


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